I chewed passenger screaming in the silence of a corridor inhabited by ghosts. I close my eyes, I'm almost dead and half alive. The head cold, inert heart. Last night I was concerned, the sky and the earth shook in a language screamed unexpected. I prayed, cried black lethargy, melancholy. I imagined him step by step, minute by minute confined with other prisoners in that prison cell, psychiatric hospital, hostel, five-star hotel what do I know?
awoke suddenly, other prisoners were still. They looked as if the world were to absorb and a prayer of forgiveness or a death sentence was not enough to stop that. The humble man recalled a missing person was not in the prison courtyard. He was a former alcoholic, former drug addict, ex pathological liar who remained in the room of the jail. The humble man ran through the halls and some dirty dark place that did not receive tax support, living on alms. He turned into the small room, bounced a few chairs and crossed the threshold of obnoxiously smelly room. There it was paralyzed, her eyes wide, at the height of epilepsy. Then
I wanted to embrace the memory of his arms intact, I wanted to draw his shadow and rip the sky. Why are so happy fools, the soup tastes cold, try putting songs exciting to remember that I am alive and evoke memories sacred in my memory. When nothing seems to work.
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